Daggers and Deceit
by Mrs-Eadig
Summary: This is an original story about a girl who is out for revenge. Along the way she meets one of our handsome heroes and becomes to mean so much to him and he to her, that she is willing to undo the revenge she has so desperately wanted for the sake of love. I have tried to pull some elements/themes from the Dumas version however this is my own version of Aramis aka Rene d'Herblay.
1. The Countess of Dorziat

Hi all, I was inspired to write this story after watching "The Three Musketeers". Let's just say since I saw the Hobbit, and witnessed the beauty that is Luke Evans he has become my muse. I based this version of Aramis on his portrayal. Hope you like it. x

o0o

"Would you care for anything else milady?"

"No thank you Amelie, you may go. Good night."

"Good night."

Amelie curtseyed respectfully and left her mistresses room. The young girl had been in her ladies service some three months now and although she would not admit her to be a cruel mistress, there was something mysterious and dangerous about The Countess Jocelyn Dorziat. Amelie had assisted The Countess that evening to dress for the night, as she was attending a grand ball at the home of the Count Evreux, best friend and close companion of the King.

As Jocelyn surveyed her appearance in the cheval mirror she inwardly complimented Amelie's work. She had chosen a purple and black charmeuse silk gown, heavily embroidered with black lace around the collar and hem. The cut of the dress was low and exposed Jocelyn's shoulders and a great deal of torso. Her hair had been tightly curled and fixed up in the fashion of the ladies at court and was adorned with jewels and feathers to match her ensemble. Some would say it was the most unsuitable dress for such an occasion, but The Countess Dorziat did not mind, she knew exactly why and for whom she wore it for. The Count Evreux.

The Count was an extremely rich and influential man, who in his younger years had been the Lord and master of Jocelyn's town. However he had not been a kind and generous master, with a penchant for high taxes and harsh punishments for those who could not pay. When Jocelyn was just eight years old her father a local landowner and gentlemen, had made the reckless decision to take a loan from Evreux to ensure his summer crop would survive. Sadly the loan and the weather had both been exacting and prompted her father to take his own life, leaving Jocelyn homeless and orphaned. From that day forward she vowed to take her revenge on the Count. When Jocelyn came of age she left the orphanage and began her plot to find and kill Count Evreux.

Her journey began at the age of sixteen when she came to work in the house of Sir Andre de Chauvigny as his housekeeper. The aging knight had been a soldier in the Kings personal guard and was a kind master to her; although not very wealthy his connections with men of higher status thrust Jocelyn in an upwardly direction. The second stage in her plan was to gain skills in weaponry and deceit and the vengeful teenager was able to study under the tutelage of Tristan de Clement (the once Duke of d'Herblay, although upon pain of death he would never admit it.) Tristan was a friend of Sir Andre and taught Jocelyn how to wield a blade and pistol - not a sword as he deemed it an unsuitable weapon for a woman. Jocelyn had revealed her plans to Clement and he had understood her motives as he once had a daughter of his own whom he had lost. He appreciated the bond between father and daughter as sacred and after training Jocelyn he had begged her not to go through with her plan but to stay with him as his ward. Jocelyn had come to care for the old man and it wounded her to leave him, but she knew her will to destroy Evreux was too strong and so she left Clement in the middle of the night.

Eventually Jocelyn arrived in Paris and into the path of The Count of Dorziat. The Count had been clear about his feelings for Jocelyn when they had first met, and knowing him to be wealthy and with high connections Jocelyn agreed to marry him. It would be wrong to admit that she had felt nothing for him but she was unsure if she had loved him. After they had been married a year the Count died, succumbing to an illness he suffered with before he married Jocelyn. The now fully grown woman was not glad at his passing, but agreed it was a fortunate circumstance that accelerated her plans. Dorziat had not been truthful to his wife and the true extent of his fortune, which was some three times more than what she had originally thought. The widow Countess Dorziat was now an eligible prospect for any man in France most especially The Count Evreux.

Jocelyn steeled herself as she pushed the memories of her past from her mind. They would do her no good this night as she needed all her strength to deceive and accomplish her aims. If she was successful Evreux would invite her to become his mistress allowing her access to his private chambers where she could execute her final plan. The Count was renowned for taking women out of the marital bed, as he had done so six times already since his marriage to the much younger, Caroline Bretagne only two years earlier. Knowing his love and gluttony for money, Jocelyn was sure he could not resist her fortune.

Straightening the hem of her skirt and collecting her fan and purse from the dresser, Jocelyn left her room and travelled to the ball. All manner of society were at The Count Evreux's party. All upstanding members of French society, all with their own sordid and wicked secrets. When Jocelyn arrived at the house she was helped out of the carriage by a servant and admitted entrance without a look or a comment. As she climbed the staircase from the rue towards the door, her nerves began to bubble in the pit of her stomach, but she did not let them beat her. Jocelyn reached the atrium of the house and a second servant removed her cloak whilst a third announced her arrival at the party.

"The Countess of Dorziat." The pompous herald cried.

Those nearest the door immediately turned to look at her, whilst those furthest away hurried to the nearest gap to take a glimpse at their newly arrived guest. It had not been ten months since the Countess' husband had passed away, and many believed she would not accept the Count's invitation. There shock at her attendance was nothing compared to her attire. It felt like everyone in the room had stopped whatever conversation they were holding to take a peek at her, but as quickly as they stopped talking they began again. Jocelyn heard snippets of their conversation and remarked how they spoke about her the way she thought they would.

Jocelyn walked around the periphery of the room greeting those she knew with a smile and those she didn't with a polite nod of the head. A serving boy offered her a tray of food that she courteously refused and then another came by and offered her a glass of champagne, which she took eagerly. Placing the glass to her lips she spotted her target across the room, whom caught her eye with a confident smile. She surveyed him over the rim of her glass, seducing him with a sideways look. Evreux was nothing short of predictable. When he sensed he could leave the companion he had been talking to he did so quickly. He continued to stare at The Countess Dorziat as he wandered past other dignitaries he should have paid compliments to and spoke with. None of this was lost on the scheming woman and she laughed inwardly as her plan was working.

She had no intention to accomplish anything that night other than draw Evreux away from the party into a secluded corner of the room. As he was getting closer Jocelyn set her glass on a nearby sill and began to walk to the open door at the back of the hall, the perfect place to lay her trap. Waiting by the doorway, but not stepping outside, she waited patiently as Evreux came to stand directly behind her.

"Countess we did not expect you tonight." He breathed down her neck, his breath a mixture of stale food and wine.

"When your grace so kindly extended his invitation, how could I refuse?"

"Indeed."

Evreux offered Jocelyn his arm, which she accepted to keep up the pretence. They wandered into the courtyard of his house. It was not a garden as they were in the city, however there were raised beds and trees planted artificially that gave the patio a pastoral feel. As the couple descended the few stone steps further into the night Evreux was called back toward the party by a male voice. Jocelyn did not hear the lilt of the voice nor what they said as she continued to walk around the courtyard and found a secluded spot behind an Acer Tree. When he had finished his conversation The Count searched the dimly lit patio for The Countess. He called out to her in the night but got no reply. His heels rapped on the stone floor and echoed in the air, as he wandered past the tree he felt a pair of hands cover his eyes and a soft voice giggle. Covering the hands with his own he joined in her mirth and removed them from his face.

"Forgive me milady, I was waylaid by the head of my guard."

"Does he fear for you, your grace? Or worry I may lead you astray?"

Jocelyn put up a good act and it was working on the despicable Count.

"Are you milady?"

She giggled deceivingly.

"He cannot help it. A Musketeer never truly trusts any man, or woman it would seem."

"A Musketeer? I thought they were employed at the King's command?"

"Indeed. Let's just say Aramis is on loan from our benevolent King."

Jocelyn faltered when she heard that name and her face gave her away.

"Are you alright milady?"

There was a genuine note of concern on the voice of the Count.

"Yes I am fine. Though I feel a little light headed, from the night air."

"Forgive me I keep you out too long. Let us go inside."

Jocelyn accepted the arm of the man he despised for the second time that night, although this time out of necessity. When they entered the party the gathered were dancing and the music was loud enough for the Count and Countess to return unnoticed by most. One who had noticed was the Count's wife, who promptly and discreetly demanded the attention of her husband and proceeded to dance with him with their other guests. Jocelyn obliged so as not to seem challenging, but inwardly cursed that she had allowed the moment to slip away from her.

As she watched the couples dance around the floor, Jocelyn once again took her position on the edge of the room. She was not sure if the chance would present itself again that evening and decided to abandon her plan and return home. As she headed for the door she spotted a figure at the other end of the room. A man dressed in black. Jocelyn was certain the gentlemen looked at her for a brief moment before a flurry of dancers obscured her view and the man was gone.


	2. Rene d'Herblay

Jocelyn returned from the ball flustered and after refusing assistance from Amelie to undress, she slammed the door to her room and sat down at her dresser going over the nights events. She couldn't be certain, but that face had seemed so familiar to her. A face from long ago, could she even be sure that it was definitely him?

_...Clement 5 years earlier..._

_The two assailants fought hard trying desperately to disarm their opponent. The taller of the two thrust his dagger toward the shorter one only to find his target blocked and his arm caught in a vice like grip._

_"Good Jocelyn, now parry."_

_Jocelyn smiled at her master and obeyed his command._

_"Yes now lunge, block, Excellent."_

_Her lesson was over for today and the now sweaty teenager would have to clean and repack the weapons they had been using. The young girl did not mind, Tristan de Clement was a good teacher and treated her well. She often wondered where he had learnt to fight. She knew from her former master Sir Andre, that he had not been a captain of the guard as he had, and yet his skill with a blade was unmatched or so she thought. Jocelyn has asked him once before, but he had refused to answer and she daren't ask since._

_"When you have packed away the pistols Jocelyn come in for your supper." Tristan shouted from the doorway to his kitchen._

_"Yes sir."_

_Jocelyn had finished locking the cabinet and was just closing the door to the stable when she heard the sound of hurried horse hooves on the dirt track just beyond the borders of the farm. Tristan must have head them too as he came to the door again to see who was coming. When he saw who it was he smiled broadly and waved to the newcomer. Jocelyn looked from her master to the rider and noted from his appearance he was a man of consequence. He wore a coat and jerkin of black satin and leather that was heavily embroidered with lace and thread. He pulled the horse in expertly and greeted Tristan like an old friend._

_"About time boy, where have you been?" Tristan asked excitedly._

_"Forgive me father I was delayed on the road. You haven't been waiting too long I hope?"_

_"No. Welcome home. It is good to see you."_

_"You too."_

_The two men embraced one another and walked over to Jocelyn arm in arm. The confused teenager stood there and watched as this stranger came toward her. Tristan had never spoken of a son nor even hinted so she was surprised to say the least. _

_"Jocelyn, come meet my son, Rene."_

_Rene bowed his head to Jocelyn and flashed her a gallant smile._

o0o

Jocelyn continued to stare into the mirror on her dresser. She shook the memory from her mind and was about to rise when she remembered something. Something that she had locked away some years ago. Reaching for the top left drawer in her dresser she pulled it open slowly. There was not much in it, except for a few hair pins and old opened letters. Concealed quite cleverly was a compartment in the drawer. You could not see it as the seam was so well made. Jocelyn lifted the panel and pulled out a brass token. She lifted it to the light to inspect it more closely. Inside it was a miniature portrait.

o0o

_"When do you leave?" Jocelyn asked Rene._

_"I leave tomorrow at first light."_

_Rene moved around the stable preparing his livery and horse for the long ride the day after. He had been accepted in the Kings personal guard, The Musketeers. Jocelyn watched regretfully as he paid meticulous attention to the task at hand and handed him a strap when he could not find it. Rene looked at her hand to her face and gave her a look of disapproval. _

_"Don't look at me like that Jocelyn."_

_"Like what?"_

_Rene continued to pack his belongings and refused to look at the girl he had come to know over the past few weeks._

_"Like you have come to mean something to me, and I to you?"_

_"Haven't I?" She barely whispered._

_When he gave her no answer, Jocelyn turned on her heel and out the stable door, sending it flying as she went. As she crossed the farmyard, tears brimming at the corner of her eyes, Rene caught up to her and turned her about by her wrist._

_"Why do this now, huh?" He shouted as he pulled her toward him._

_"Rene let me go," She fought his grip to no avail._

_"Jocelyn you are the most stubborn, hot tempered girl that I know." He was a good head taller than her and this was more prevalent now than it had ever been._

_"Like you said I mean nothing to you," _

_"That's not true, you mean everything." _

_Jocelyn stopped wrestling with him and merely stared at him in shock. _

_The next few moments were a blur all she could remember was a kiss and their bodies mingling together. When she came to her senses the light was waning and the master had still not returned. (He had left that morning to take some pigs to town and was most likely getting drunk in a local tavern.) Jocelyn lay naked in Rene's bed and he beside her. He lay on his front buy propped on his side looking down at the girl he had just bed and his insides tore. He was not in the habit of taking women to his bed but there was something about her that opened him up. But at the same time his heart was set on becoming one of the Kings' guard and nothing was going to stand in his way._

_Jocelyn smiled up at him but noticed the pain on his face._

_"You still intend to go?"_

_"I must Jocelyn."_

_The hurt woman sat up and clung to the sheets to cover her exposed body. She looked around the room and it was her turn to not meet his eye. She was ashamed she had allowed her emotions get the better of her. Rene also sat up and wrapped his arms around her. Sweeping the hair from her shoulder, he kissed the bare skin, then her neck and face._

_"I will not be gone long, and when I can return I will come for you, I promise."_

_"How can you keep that promise?"_

_Rene produced a brass token for her. _

_"This was my mothers. My father gave it to her when they married. It is called a,"_

_"Lovers eye." She finished. Jocelyn had seen them before. Her own father had given one to his mother, but it had to be sold along with all his other possessions._

_"This is my promise. When I return you shall give it back to me." He finished sincerely._

_Jocelyn sighed and leant against Rene's chest and shoulder. She turned the token over and saw an inscription on the reverse. 'Aramis' is read._

_"My mother's maiden name."_

o0o


	3. Daggers and Deceit

**A.N - This is quite graphic so if you are easily offended please do not read.**

Jocelyn threw the token back into the drawer and slammed it shut in anger. She stood from her stool and began untying the laces of her dress and slip. As she loosened the bottom fastening of her bodice and began to tease the higher laces from their bind the woman was sure she saw something or someone move within the shadow, cast by her closed curtains. Only they were no longer closed, nor were the windows and shutters themselves. How could she have missed that? Pulling out a dagger she concealed in her stomacher Jocelyn hid it expertly between her forearm and petticoat. She wandered to the open window then climbed the small step onto her balcony. The now nervous woman peered from left to right and when she was satisfied there was no danger she backed into her bedroom and closed the windows. After pulling the shades to, Jocelyn turned on her heel but was caught by surprise as a steel blade was thrust deadly close to her throat.

"Countess?"

The voice asked, almost accused. It was deep and coarse, like the owner had stepped in from the night air and had not yet regained their breath. Most likely that was true.

"You fail your teaching milady."

"As do you," Jocelyn turned her head slightly toward her attacker, "Aramis,"

The assailant whilst still holding the blade to the woman's throat felt the unmistakable sensation of steel against his leg close to his genitals.

"When did realise?" He asked.

"I did not, till now; and you?"

"I was not sure till you took that token from the," Aramis faltered,

"Forgive me, It is incredibly distracting when your dagger is so close to my,"

"Your what?" Jocelyn enquired sarcastically, "Trust me the feeling is mutual." She finished.

"Well then on the count of three, agreed?"

"Agreed. One,"

"Two,"

"Three." They both said together.

Both attackers immediately withdrew their blades from their opponent, although kept them close at hand just in case. Jocelyn moved a good distance away from Aramis but kept her eye on him all the same. He stayed by the window using the advantage of shadow to conceal him.

"So you intend to go through with your plan then?"

"What plan?" She answered feigning ignorance.

"Do not play your games with me Countess. I know who you truly are."

"I do not know what you are talking about."

"Very well. Let us just say I know _what_ you are."

"And what is that may I ask?"

Aramis moved out of the shadow for the first time and revealed himself to Jocelyn. Her heart pounded incessantly at the sight of him. He had not changed a bit. He was still handsome, with strong, chiselled features that had made her go weak at the knees when she had first clapped eyes on him. The young woman grasped hold of the post on her bed to steady herself and prayed she had not given her true feelings away. Aramis continued to walk closer and closer to her and when he was but a breath away he answered as Jocelyn attempted to strike.

"Beautiful."

The old acquaintance grabbed the woman by her wrist firmly -just as he had done the last time they met- pinning her to the post and stared into the depths of her eyes. Jocelyn dropped the blade voluntarily rather from the grip on her wrist. She stared back at Aramis, searching his face for what she could not say, but as she looked at his lips she felt them brush against hers as he kissed her hard.

Jocelyn met his kiss with fervour and grasped his arm with her free hand. Aramis released her wrist and snaked his hands around Jocelyn's back and felt the soft flesh between the folds of her open dress. The enamoured man lifted the woman from the post, with ease in one hand, and swung her around to her feet. Tilting her slightly over the crook of his arm he caressed her bare neck and shoulders with his free hand before claiming her mouth once again. The aroused women pressed herself against Aramis and began undoing the buttons of his jacket and in her haste managed to tear a few from their seams. Pulling the black silk coat from his shoulders in one swift motion she turned her attention to the buttons of his trousers, but was forced around suddenly by the enthused man.

"You have changed, Jocelyn."

"Better than what you remember?" She answered seductively as she reached for his cock beneath his trousers.

Aramis swept Jocelyn's dark tresses away from her neck and finished untying the laces of her dress. He planted softer kisses to her skin than he had given her moments before but countered them with firm bites with his teeth. As the final fastening was undone he allowed the dress to fall from her form leaving her in nothing but her corset, thin cotton slip, silk stockings and heels. He ravished her naked form from behind both with his hands and his lips.

"I thought men of the guard were to be chaste?" She goaded.

Aramis grunted his answer, a low animalistic sound that sent shivers through Jocelyn's body. Leaning back against him the heated woman turned her head to meet him and Aramis drew her around to continue lavishing his kisses upon her mouth.

"I thought widows were also meant to be?" He whispered in her ear.

Pulling away from him Jocelyn looked at him with contempt. Aramis backed himself onto her bed and drew the intoxicating woman to him with a single look of desire. Jocelyn complied willingly feeling her hatred ebb away slowly. But rather than lying down next to him as she had done before, she sat down in his lap, one leg either side of his hips, pushing herself onto his engorged cock then began pulling at the ties of his shirt. Unwilling to allow her the lead Aramis flipped them both over so that he was now astraddle her. He kissed her neck, the heave of her breast, then her stomach until he was close to her lithe inner thigh. Without taking away his gaze from her face he undid the clasp of her stocking and removed them one by one, rolling them down her supple legs.

Aramis was enjoying the attention he showed Jocelyn, almost as much as she was, but he was growing impatient and eager to feel himself inside her with her limbs wrapped around his. Grasping her ankles he dragged his lover to the edge of the bed so that the hem of her already short under-slip rose higher toward her hip. Sitting up from the satin covers Jocelyn ran her hands up Aramis exposed torso then down again towards the bulge in his trousers. This time he did not remove her hands but allowed her to expertly undo the buttons of his leather trousers. As Jocelyn gave the fastenings her attention, Aramis secured his fingers underneath the hooks of her corset and one by one undid them, revealing more of her breasts to his eye. Finally Jocelyn reached the thing they had both been longing for, his cock. She smiled as he threw his head back in anguished longing at her merest touch. The stirred man leant over Jocelyn's semi clad form and entered her opening with a sudden hard thrust. Jocelyn cried out in a mixture of surprise and satisfaction and gripped her lovers back as he continued to plunge into her firmly.

Before long both were a mix of clothing, bed covers and flesh as the two lovers had removed their final pieces of clothing and left them trailing on the mattress. Aramis had not allowed Jocelyn any more control since he had first entered her and was content to take the lead and control their love making. However the hot blooded man suddenly slowed down his movements as he felt something change between them. He heard the start of the rain as in tinkered down on the lead roof. He could smell the scent of her perfume and their writhing bodies mix into an intoxicating aroma.

Jocelyn lay there, beautiful and serene. The anger gone from the depth of her eyes and replaced with a darker look of hunger and affection. Aramis stopped what he was doing and looked at the woman he once knew.

"Rene," Jocelyn asked breathlessly,

Aramis stared in shock, he had not been called that in such a long time. To hear his name, his true name uttered by her sweet lips brought back the feeling, the knowledge that this girl, this woman knew him for who he really was. Aramis thought it was she who had spun a web of lies that was now her life, but he was quickly reminded by that one word, his name, that he too had created an existence of deceit, one just as mysterious and intriguing as The Countess Dorziat. He did not answer her, but conquered Jocelyn's lips with his own and continued to fuck her.


	4. The next time we meet

The next morning Aramis woke early before the Countess. For a Countess she was in the eyes of all that knew her. Whatever had passed between them that night was a story and the world she had created the truth. He knew he must rise soon to avoid the eyes of her maid, but just for one more moment he wanted to look upon his Jocelyn, the girl he knew. He kissed her bare shoulder as she slept on and watched as her back rose and fell as she breathed deeply. Her once kept hair was sprayed over the covers giving her a natural look that charmed him. Aramis traced the curve of her back with his hand and noticed a smile spread over her face, he matched her smile with one of his own then lying back with his hands behind his head, the Musketeer sighed heavily

"Why so serious?" Jocelyn purred.

The tired man looked at her surprised. He must have woken her when he stirred. Rolling over to see her more clearly, she did the same mimicking his movement so that they were facing one another, their bodies exposed though neither of them cared.

"I thought you were asleep?" He chastised her playfully.

"Would you prefer me to be?"

She looked at him seductively and Aramis laughed for the first time, in a long while. He pulled the temptress toward him so that she was almost on top of him, pushing her smooth breasts to his chest. As he drew her further towards him, he kissed her resolutely on the mouth. Jocelyn's chestnut hair fell about them like silky curtains, brushing against his skin, sending a wonderful sensation coursing through his very core. The lovers looked at one another for what felt like an age without speaking a word.

"You are leaving again." Jocelyn said eventually. There was no sadness in her voice or any other emotion, just the cold plain facts.

"You know I must." Aramis tried to appease.

"Yes." She said as she leant her chin on his chest.

Aramis rolled them both over to face his love, pinning her to the sheets with his whole weight. He pushed a lock of hair from her face. She was so beautiful to him, yet the now hardened soldier was grappling with the same conflicting emotions he had all those years ago. He questioned for a moment if he made the right decision in leaving her, but pushed the thought from his mind as he was brought back to reality. He simply asked,

"Do you intend to go through with your plan?"

Jocelyn looked at him with confusion,

"Why do you ask?"

"Evreux is an influential man Jocelyn. He is well protected. It would be folly to try and attempt anything."

"What do you care?" She said accusingly.

Aramis sighed, and rolled of her with discontent. He did not want this to turn into an argument so he began to dress, pulling on his trousers first to disguise the pleasure she had stirred with that first look.

"I cannot let you do that." He said firmly

"Why not, what is Evreux to you Aramis?" Jocelyn had sat bolt up and pulled the bed sheets around her. Aramis noticed she had returned to using his assumed name.

"I have been sworn to protect him."

"Protect him?" She scoffed.

The vengeful woman had never revealed her past to Aramis. He assumed when they first met that she was simply a girl his father had hired. She was youthful, strong and strong willed, the perfect girl to tend his house and keep him company in his aging years. He had thought it strange that she had sought tuition from his father but was not prudent enough to ask any questions. Jocelyn was all too eager to mask her past, she did not want to seem the victim in his eyes.

"Jocelyn he is the confident to the King for Christ sake!" He was in a temper now. She was still the same hot headed and stubborn girl from his past.

"And that makes him less of bastard in your eyes?"

"It makes him untouchable, even to you."

Aramis began to dress quickly. He found his shirt and jacket near the foot of the bed where they had left them the night previous and as he finished pulling the sleeves over his arm, Jocelyn stalked over to her dresser. The soldier watched with intrigue as she yanked the top left drawer open and pulled out his mother's brass token. She threw it at his chest with some force and he caught it in his hand as it fell. Aramis looked down at the portrait and said defeated,

"This was a gift."

"You told me to give it back to you the next time we met, and I have." The woman spat back.

"Fine."

The angered man picked up his boots and blade from the marble floor and walked toward the window whence he came the previous night. As he reached for the latch of the shutter he turned to face Jocelyn one last time,

"If I or any of my men think you pose a threat to the Count, we will not hold back."

"Nor will I!"

o0o

"Aramis where the devil have you been?"

Count Evreux shouted furiously and Aramis understood why. He had not been seen since the night previous and he had no explanation for his whereabouts since then. He dared not reveal the truth, for the sake of Jocelyn's reputation and his own.

"Forgive me your grace. I was following a lead regarding the intruder last night." He lied.

"Intruder, what intruder?"

"A masked man who attempted to gain access to your home via the courtyard. However, my men managed to scare him off."

"The courtyard you say? When? It wasn't when I was out there with The Countess of Dorziat was it?"

"No your grace. I do not think so."

The Count looked pleased with his answer then thoughtful,

"What did you make of her?"

"Make of her?"

"Speaking man to man Aramis, do you think her a willing prospect?"

Aramis thought long before he answered. Although he had warned Jocelyn to stay away and appeared strong in his decision, he could not bear to think what the Count would do with her if they met again, or what he may have tried to do the previous night. He also knew if Jocelyn saw her plan through the Count was in serious danger and therefore he did not want to encourage Evreux's affection. Being a good soldier he continued to lie,

"I could not possible say your grace. May I give you some advice Count Evreux?"

"Go on."

"I would take a little caution with any new acquaintances for the time being. We do not yet know the true identity of last night's intruder. Until we do it would not harm you to take some necessary precaution."

"Come now Aramis, she is a woman. The only thing I need worry about it whether she likes flowers or chocolates. Besides I have already extended the invitation for her to dine here tonight. I can't very well take it back now can I?"

With that the Count swept back up the stairs to his private rooms. Aramis watched him leave before exiting the same way he had come. The soldier was determined to fulfil his duties, it was his code, his honour and he would not forsake them for anyone. But that was precisely the problem, Aramis had trained his men using the same practice he had been taught and if it came to it, if his men caught Jocelyn, they would not hesitate to pursue her and kill her. He regretted goading her that morning, he knew better than anyone that once the gauntlet had been thrown down Jocelyn would rise to it, the only way she could.

The Musketeer travelled by horse back to Jocelyn's home. When he arrived on Rue De Clairaut, he dismounted his horse hastily and banged on the great oaken door. He waited patiently for a few moments but when he got no reply he wandered out into the street to gain a better view of her window. The shades were not drawn so he assumed that her lady in waiting was not up there. He hammered again on the frame and again in impatience. The wicket door opened inwards and a steward stood by it. Aramis did not wait to be invited in but pushed past the servant without a word.

"Jocelyn!" He shouted.

"Jocelyn."

"Forgive me sir but my lady is not at home." A polite and quiet voice explained. It was Amelie who had appeared from a servant's corridor.

"Where is she?"

"I am not in the habit of revealing the whereabouts of my lady to complete stranger's sir. If you would like to leave your name, I will tell her that you called."

Aramis looked from the girl to the top of the stairs. He knew she did not lie, but chose not to leave his name. He fled the house and remounted his horse and rode back to the Count's home as fast as his horse could carry him. When he arrived back at the Count's house the frantic man spotted Jocelyn's carriage driving back towards her home, but he was not sure if it was occupied. Tying off his horse the Musketeer took the steps to the door two at a time and burst through the front entrance and then into the parlour, panting as he stumbled across the scene before him.

On the couch in the candlelit room sat Jocelyn and Evreux. Her cheeks were flushed and the heave of her breast were rising and falling rapidly. Evreux was bent close to her, one had on her knee and the other placed carefully on the back of the seat, to offer him leverage and support. He was so close that what had transpired, or was about to occur between them before the hastened man had entered was all too apparent. The Count looked at his guard with venom in his eyes and rose from the couch in anger,

"Damn it man, this is too much! Were you not taught to knock before you enter? I shall have you horse whipped."

From behind him, Aramis could see Jocelyn smirk in mirth, not by the curve of her mouth but in the twinkle of her eye. She too rose from the couch then rest a hand gently on Evreux's shoulder to calm him,

"Don't be too harsh on him. I'm sure he has a reasonable explanation?"

She posed the question to Aramis as she lay her cheek on the nobleman's arm. The worried man had to admit, Jocelyn was skilled with the blade, but those talents were second to her acting abilities.

"Well do you?" He reiterated.

Aramis did not answer but looked from his employer to his lover.

"Look at him Count, you've reduced him to silence, by your tirade. Shame on you." Jocelyn teased spitefully.

Her words had the desired effect, Evreux softened both mentally and physically then smiled pitifully at her. He offered Jocelyn his arm and led her back to the couch,

"Very well, as you wish my dear."

It was at that moment Aramis' opinion of Jocelyn hardened.


End file.
